The Rejected True Heiress (Liora and Callum) novel Chapter 512

She couldn’t mean…

“Bring their heads back to me,” she said, her voice spilling out through the crack in the door to the study. “Dispose of their bodies however you see fit. But those heads are mine.”

“Yes, M’Lady,” a male voice grunted.

Heart pounding now, I took a step forward and pushed the door open. Belinda was standing behind the desk, her fingers pressed into the wood, an intense look on her face. The royal guard standing before her, a new Delta she’d recently appointed, bowed to both of us before walking out.

Belinda looked at me. “Can I help you, Bianca?”

I took a step into the room. “Did I hear you correctly?” I asked. “You’re going to have them all killed?”

“It’s the only way,” she said curtly, shuffling papers around like we were discussing mere business. “They’re all dissenters, all three of them. Trust me when I say this: you do not want people like that alive when you take the throne.”

“But Callum is mine,” I protested, closing the distance between us. “You promised me.”

She shrugged. “You can find another consort. Someone more suitable. Perhaps Ambrose will be interested after—”

“I don’t want Ambrose! I want Callum!” I stomped my foot, clenching my fists at my sides.

Belinda’s brows lifted. Then, like it was nothing to her, she raised her hand and flicked her fingers. A rush of hard air hit the side of my face like a slap, snapping my head to the side. I felt my skin turn hot, even though her hand hadn’t struck me.

“You forget yourself, girl,” she hissed, scooping up a pile of papers in her arms and making for the door. “I am not your pathetic wimp of a mother. I am far stronger than you’ll ever be, and I won’t tolerate your childishness any further.”

He said nothing. Just stood there at his post.

I growled under my breath and turned away, storming back down the hall, my dress now flaring out behind me. How dare she insinuate killing Callum? How dare she undermine me—

I rounded the corner and froze. There, coming out of a side room, was the Queen. Liora’s sickly mother, hunched over, clutching a cane with one hand while a young servant held her by the elbow. They had their heads bent close together, whispering amongst themselves.

Before I could slip away, the Queen looked up and spotted me. She stopped walking, her thin shoulders tensing above the low collar over her gown. For a long moment, she just stared, her eyes wide, looking at me like one might look at a ghost.

Then, her eyes narrowed. The rage I felt from across the hall was palpable, but she said nothing.

Just turned and limped away on her cane, the servant glancing at me over her shoulder one last time before they disappeared.